


Moments in the Life of an Immortal

by theanonymouslibrarians



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Morte d'Arthur references, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theanonymouslibrarians/pseuds/theanonymouslibrarians
Summary: Short fics about moments in Jenkins' life.





	1. Lethal

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Librarians.

It’s midnight on a Saturday and his Librarians are draped in various poses around the closest thing the annex has to a kitchen table. A bizarre case involving a psammead, a phoenix, and an amulet led to the four stumbling in an hour ago, simultaneously starving and exhausted. Thankfully the back door meant the late hour was no barrier to getting a decent meal. Two boxes of partially-consumed pizza sit on the table. As Jenkins helps himself to another slice, he glances at them. Cassandra with her head on the table. Colonel Baird leaning back with her eyes only partially opened. Ezekiel and Jacob half-heartedly arguing over whether New York or Italian pizza is better (the pizza being eaten is from neither place), their quips made between yawns.

The wave of fondness that washes over the Caretaker is tinged with sadness. Throughout the years, Jenkins has had friends, lovers, and family. He’s had to say goodbye to all eventually. Being immortal, one learns how to love and let go. As horrifying as it may sound to someone who lives only one life, one needs to build up a type of barrier. Not to avoid pain; if there’s no pain there was never any love. But to stop the pain from overwhelming one. Jenkins has lost count of all the people he’s lost. Some of them, while not forgotten, haven’t been thought about in centuries. But looking around at his Librarians, Jenkins knows that when he loses these ones it will kill him.


	2. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own neither the Librarians nor Peruvian Darkness Power.

The moment he lost Nicole was the moment their baby died. The pair of them had been one of the few constants in each other’s lives for around three hundred years by the time they married. They loved each other. Or Jenkins loved Nicole and believed she loved him. Over the subsequent years, he had spent days on end debating whether or not she truly reciprocated his feelings. It wasn’t like his love for Charlene, but it was close enough. And while Jenkins was wary of venturing into a state of being that usually lasted one’s entire life when he still had feelings for another woman and he knew Nicole longed for a man who hadn’t even been born, the two could understand each other in ways that few people in any dimension could. 

It was nice to be understood. To have someone to share one’s joys and sorrows after years of being alone. Of course he’d had flings and relationships over the years, but with mortals who could never fully comprehend what it was like to have lived long enough to see civilizations crumble. Nicole was different. And for 50 short but wonderful years. They’d been happy. But then they’d slipped up. A tiny fault in a protection spell and Nicole had gotten pregnant. They’d both had children over the years. Had children and lost them. Neither wanted to lose any more. They both hoped that the fact that their immortality would somehow lead to a longer lifespan for their child, but knew that there was no guarantee that this would happen. 

Their daughter, Evangeline, had been three months old when she’d caught scarlet fever. They’d used a healing potion, but two weeks later it was back. They’d used every healing artifact that’s energy couldn’t be depleted, but Evangeline just didn’t seem able to stay healthy. Eventually, Jenkins and Nicole had been forced to accept that, short of turning their infant daughter immortal, there was nothing they could do. Sentencing a loved one to a state of perpetual infancy was unthinkable. The parents had made the decision to let their daughter go. 

They’d stayed together for a year after that, but things weren’t the same. When Nicole had left, Jenkins felt no bitterness. Maybe he’d even been a bit relieved. The pain of looking at each other had become unbearable. When he’d discovered she’d stolen artifacts, he was concerned, but still didn’t believe she would use them against the Library. Until the night he found her in the weapons gallery. 

Jenkins had begged her to see reason. He had a duty to the Library and to humanity, though, and when she wouldn’t surrender he’d made it clear that she could only leave if she put down the suitcase full of dangerous artifacts. She had replied by throwing Peruvian Darkness Powder at him. 

Jenkins was an old soldier. He knew how to fight through shock, and had still managed to block the door, grabbing Nicole’s arm. She had shot him then. Of course it hadn’t killed him, but it had still hurt, and the shock alone would have been enough to distract him. After she had made her escape and Jenkins had recovered and managed to raise the alarm, he’d mourned for the life the two of them had shared and lost, but had steeled himself for what must be done. Whatever the two of them had shared was clearly over. Now, Nicole was armed and at large. If Jenkins didn’t want to lose anyone else, he would need to stop her before she used any of those weapons, none of which could be used without catastrophic consequences. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe Nicole is probably innocent (yes, I’ve seen Graves of Time, but wanting to kill a certain spoiler doesn’t necessarily mean not wanting to harm the Library or Librarians, so I’m still wary), but I don’t think Jenkins would lock her up without being certain in his own mind that she was a danger to the Library, the Librarians, and maybe humanity in general.


	3. Any Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Librarians. Neither do I own Dorothy's silver slippers.

Ezekiel shivered wrapping his arms around himself and ducking his head down, trying to minimize the amount of his body exposed to the rain. It was 10:34 at night. He was miles from the nearest town. Rain was pouring down. He had a flat. And he’d locked the keys in his car. Normally, he’d have Jenkins make him a door, but the Back Door had been wonky since his mother had stolen it and the Caretaker was still tinkering with it. It would be at least another hour until- 

Headlights lit up the road and a car drove up next to him. Ezekiel was as wary as the next person, but in this weather- 

“Mr. Jones!” A familiar voice called out. “I suggest you get in before-“ 

The Librarian didn’t hear the rest; he scrambled around to the passenger side, fumbled with the door handle before flinging it open, and all but threw himself in. 

“Mr. Jones.” Jenkins greeted him, reaching into the backseat to grab a blanket. 

Ezekiel took it from Jenkins’ outstretched hand, using it to dry himself off. The former knight turned the heat on full blast and handed Ezekiel a thermos. 

“Tea. Infused with a potion that counteracts hypothermia. Not sure if you have it yet, but I’d rather not find out too late.” 

“H-how did you…?” The Librarians stammered out, unscrewing the lid. 

“The door’s not the only teleportation device the Library has.” Jenkins started driving again, heading towards town. “Just the most steady. I’m afraid the…ah, _items_ I used only work on one person and are hardly what I’d call reliable. We’ll need to stay at an inn for the night and change the tire in the morning.” 

“No complaints here, mate.” Ezekiel sipped the tea. “Thanks for coming to get me. I thought I was going to be out there all night.” 

The other man glanced over at him with a small smile. “Any time, Mr. Jones. The Library needs all of its Librarians and drowned ones aren’t very useful.” 

“So…What artifact did you use?” 

Jenkins flushed. “They’re in the back. Mind you they may not be very…fashionable, but they did the job.” 

Ezekiel turned to look over his shoulder. Sitting on the back seat was a pair of silver slippers. 


	4. Stigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own the Librarians. Or Arthurian mythology.

It isn’t until he’s fifteen that Galahad finds out the circumstances of his conception. His father had been there on and off until Galahad was three and then he’d just left. Galahad had been raised by his mother and grandfather, and later an aunt and some nuns. Whenever they spoke of Elaine it was always as a good and virtuous woman whose heart had been broken after Lancelot had left. So, when Galahad is reunited with his father 12 years after the man had abandoned them, said he loved Galahad and then walked out of his life, Galahad is carrying 12 years of anger and hurt (and, regardless of wishing it wasn’t there, love) directed at an absent father. Twelve years of blaming Lancelot for his mother’s death and twelve years of hearing about how Sir Lancelot has time to save everyone but his own son. 

No one, not his grandfather, not his aunt, not the nuns know that Galahad doesn’t want to be a knight for entirely pure reasons. A bastard is treated poorly enough, but if one shows the world that he is harboring anger, no matter that the anger is justifiable, one is viewed as corrupt. Maybe even evil. Galahad had learned long ago to keep his darker thoughts hidden. Yes, Galahad wants to serve the king and protect the innocent. He wants to make sure no woman is left unprotected because her husband walked out on her. He wants to make sure the fatherless are never beaten and ridiculed for the crime of having only one parent. But Galahad also wants revenge. He wants to show Lancelot that his son is worth something. That, no thanks to Lancelot, his son has become a knight. Galahad will work as hard as it takes to surpass his father and show everyone at Camelot that Galahad matters. And that Lancelot traded his son for fame. 

Of course nothing is ever that simple. When Galahad is knighted and arrives at Camelot, he receives an overwhelming wave of attention. Some because of his lineage, some because of his beauty, and some because he’s achieved the Siege Perilous. But not all the attention is positive. The Queen looks at him as if she can’t make up her mind whether she admires or hates him. Lancelot’s family seems divided over how they feel about him. And whispers follow him everywhere. It doesn’t take long for Galahad to put together enough of the story. Of how his mother, with the encouragement of his grandfather and his mother’s maid, had enchanted Lancelot so that he thought he was with Guinevere and sleep with her. And of how, when Galahad was only a baby, Elaine had come with him to Camelot and raped Lancelot again, leading to his father going temporarily insane. 

Had Galahad believed it, he would have broached the subject with a bit more tact. Or not at all. But Galahad had known nothing but kindness from his mother and everyone outside of Camelot sings of her virtues. His father on the other hand had left Galahad when he was three. Despite some effort in the week or so since Galahad has arrived in Camelot, the man remains a stranger to his son. Galahad assumes this is some lie. Maybe even generated by Lancelot to justify his abandonment of Elaine and Galahad. Galahad goes straight to his father’s quarters. Lancelot’s servants know him by sight and let him in. It’s nearly a half hour before Lancelot walks in, startled, but clearly glad to see his son. 

“I heard something today.” Galahad states before Lancelot can even finish greeting him. “The servants talk. They say that my mother enchanted you to-“ 

The ashen look that comes over his father’s face is enough to shake Galahad to the core. And the way Lancelot staggers, having to lean against a nearby table to remain standing convinces Galahad that the rumors are true. Galahad and his father’s manservant need to help the world’s greatest night into a chair and bring him wine before Lancelot can even stammer out anything resembling a reply. 

“I never wanted you to know.” Galahad’s father tells him, after he’s composed himself. “I knew I couldn’t keep it from you forever. But I’d hoped-“ 

“Why…why didn’t anyone…my grandfather…the nuns…” 

Lancelot gives a bitter laugh. “Your grandfather was the one who…” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. The nuns probably knew nothing but what the abbess told them, and the abbess nothing but what King Pelles told her. I’d imagine it wasn’t much.” 

“I don’t…I can’t…” Galahad didn’t know what he was trying to say. His mind simply couldn’t process the revelation that everything he’d thought about his life…about his parents… 

“You don’t need to say or do or feel anything.” His father says vehemently. He leans forward, eyes intense. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s not your burden to bear.” 

But it is. Right or wrong, what his mother and grandfather did is always with Galahad. He’s always striving to throw it off, but he can’t. For everyone who looks at him admiringly, there’s another who looks at him with pity or disgust. No matter how many tournaments he wins, no matter how many peasants he saves, Galahad is always the bastard son of Sir Lancelot, born of deceit and magic. 


	5. Ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own the Librarians.

“We could always give her a sea burial.” Galahad commented. 

“True.” His father lifted his shirt up to cover his nose. “But Percival might not be happy about that. After all, her last wishes were to be buried in Sarras. When you get there and she’s not there-“ 

“A lot of things can happen to a ship at sea. We don’t even know if the ship will arrive.” 

“But if it does and she’s not on it, that could be problematic.” 

“I suppose so. What if we hung her by a rope over the side? That way at least it wouldn’t smell so badly. Then, we could bring her onboard before we leave.” 

Lancelot shook his head, wincing slightly as the movement led to him inhaling more of the stench. “At that point a sea burial would be better; sharks and serpents and all manner of sea creatures would eat her anyway. And seeing as how fish make up most of the available food…” 

Galahad shuddered. “Enough said.” 

The father and son stared at the corpse lying on the opulent bed, covered in rotting flowers. Really, the least Percival could have done was have someone cast a preservation spell on her. Did the knight honestly believe his sister wanted those at her funeral to be unable to recognize her? And why did he have to place her body on the only bed on board? 

“I have it!” Galahad said, eyes lighting up. “We’ll give her a sea burial. Then, before we leave the ship, we’ll replace her with another corpse! Every village has unclaimed dead. We’ll just give a pauper the funeral of a princess!” 

Lancelot frowned. “Won’t Percival know the difference?” 

“If the corpse looks like this? No. Besides, he didn’t seem to know he had a sister. Couldn’t even tell us her name.” 

“We could always give her a sea burial.” Galahad commented. 

“True.” His father lifted his shirt up to cover his nose. “But Percival might not be happy about that. After all, her last wishes were to be buried in Sarras. When you get there and she’s not there-“ 

“A lot of things can happen to a ship at sea. We don’t even know if the ship will arrive.” 

“But if it does and she’s not on it, that could be problematic.” 

“I suppose so. What if we hung her by a rope over the side? That way at least it wouldn’t smell so badly. Then, we could bring her onboard before we leave.” 

Lancelot shook his head, wincing slightly as the movement led to him inhaling more of the stench. “At that point a sea burial would be better; sharks and serpents and all manner of sea creatures would eat her anyway. And seeing as how fish make up most of the available food…” 

Galahad shuddered. “Enough said.” 

The father and son stared at the corpse lying on the opulent bed, covered in rotting flowers. Really, the least Percival could have done was have someone cast a preservation spell on her. Did the knight honestly believe his sister wanted those at her funeral to be unable to recognize her? And why did he have to place her body on the only bed on board? 

“I have it!” Galahad said, eyes lighting up. “We’ll give her a sea burial. Then, before we leave the ship, we’ll replace her with another corpse! Every village has unclaimed dead. We’ll just give a pauper the funeral of a princess!” 

Lancelot frowned. “Won’t Percival know the difference?” 

“If the corpse looks like this? No. Besides, he didn’t seem to know he had a sister. Couldn’t even tell us her name.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To understand this, you’ll need to read an episode in Thomas Mallory’s Morte d’Arthur. It’s in Book 17 Chapter 13 of my copy, but other translations might have it in a different place. Prior to the chapter, Sir Percival’s sister had died and asked her brother to place her corpse on a ship, which would magically appear in the City of Sarras when the three Grail knights arrived. Later on, Lancelot finds the ship and for whatever reason decides to sail around on it. He meets up with Galahad and for several months they go sailing around on a ship with a corpse in it.


End file.
